"Claire, trust me, I was just joking with them!"
Ryan grabbed my hand.
"Why can’t you be more understanding? I didn’t really do it—I was just talking!"
"Everyone chats about stuff like this. If I didn’t join in, I’d be out of place."
I stopped and turned to look into his eyes.
Three years ago, we had just graduated and were living apart because of work.
That summer’s downpour came so suddenly,
and he waited for me after work, standing in the rain outside.
To make sure I’d see him first, he stood outside the car, getting completely drenched.
I remember his clear, bright eyes, shining as they looked at me.
So warm, so intense.
He said with deep affection:
"I missed you so much, Claire."
It was so easy to fall into that kind of tender love.
But now I know the real reason he drove four hours to see me:
because I was cheaper than a prostitute.
Yes, hiring one comes with the risk of getting caught or contracting a disease.
But finding me was cheaper, cleaner, and safer.
And he could make me feel touched while taking whatever he wanted.
It was a win-win situation—why wouldn’t he enjoy it?
I stared into his insincere eyes, disappointment flooding my heart.